


Drabble Night...yea

by albert_al



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albert_al/pseuds/albert_al
Summary: TW: War, hospital setting





	1. Sunset

Tolys adjusted his glasses, which had fallen down across his face.

His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of the cellar, the lowest point in his new house.  
Its not much of a cellar, it's small and mostly used for storage but in it he finds a small painting of a sunset.

Its dusty, and old, and it's paint is chipped and fading.

Its not well painted, and he has no idea who its by because there is no signature.  
But Tolys picks it up, and decides to keep it.

Just as a reminder to himself, that everything is just beginning.

He's independent now, he's a free man for the first time in 50 years.

For so long it felt that day would never come but here he stood.

  
Like a sunset, like the beginning of a new day.


	2. Footsteps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: War, hospital setting

" _Lilli_ _Marlene_ -"

The radio crackles throughout the room of moaning, sick, and dying men. 

" _Lilli_ _Marlene_ "  
Arthur closes his eyes, trying to focus on the radio and nothing else.

Not on his wounds, not on the dead man in the bed over, not on the war.

Just on the song and Vera Lynn's soft words.  
Was this his end? Was this it?  
A tear trickles down his cold cheek. He doesn't want to die, not yet he realizes that now.

He wants to get older, he wants to come home, he wants the war to end, he wants it all to end.

  
" _Lilli_ _Marlene_ "  
Other than footsteps, there is no answer.


	3. Rebirth

Sometimes, Feliceano wonders about reincarnation.  
He's been told that its wrong, impossible, that the after life is a simple affair.  
But Feliceano isn't so sure, sometimes he will see farmilar faces in the crowd.

People he's certain are gone, people he's certain are dead by now.

Sometimes, he will just catch glimpses of them, on the street, in the crowd, in the shops, everywhere  
And sometimes, when he looks at Ludwig he sees it too. In his blue eyes, in his blond hair and in his smile.

Feliceano rarely sees him smile but when he does he sees it the most.  
Because he knows that smile, and he knows those eyes.  
Sometimes, he wonders.


	4. Memento

On a dusty bookshelf in the old library there sat stacked in rows, many many albums.

Each one containing many, many memories.  
The pictures were old, many of the books dusty and falling apart but Russia still kept them around, just for the memories.  
He opened one of them, to see a picture he hadn't seen in a very long time.  
It was an old picture of Latvia as a younger boy.

Russia remembered when this picture was taken, it had been over 100 years ago.

Latvia had been much younger then, for his cheeks were chubbier and rosier and he was smiling but there was something else that made him different.  
It was in his eyes, it was in his smile, and it was in the way he positioned himself.

Latvia looked very much the same as he did now you could tell it was the same person.

But his aura, his general air had changed.

This made Russia wonder, what was it that had changed?  
Was it the lost childhood perhaps?

Russia closed the book, and shelved it. Trying to forget.


	5. Greenery

' _For_ _a_ _twist_ _in_ _the_ _greenery_ '

Their eyes met, and Alfred melted inside at the sight of those sunken blue eyes staring at him searching his intensely.

Their lips met for a second, but only for a second and Alfred relished that.

It was the closest thing to love he had felt in his entire adult life and he yearned for more.  
Natalya pulled away and stared at him as if she was expecting something.

"Oh... right" he said remembering the deal.  
Alfred pulled out the crumbled papers he had been saving, and handed it over.  
Once the papers were in her hand, she unfolded them, she nodded verifying that these were useful.

She refolded them and carefully slid them into her pocket.  
Natalya left without another word, she had already fulfilled her half of the bargain and Alfred fulfilled his.

This unspoken deal between them required nothing more nothing less.  
Alfred still felt uneasy about betraying his government, but he didn't think he could stop any time soon.

After all Natalya was the closest thing to love he has ever had.

_'I snuck you documents, and microfilms too'_


	6. Trauma

Last night Edaurd dreamt, that Raivas was singing again.  
It was soft, quiet, and faraway but he could hear it.

He could not decipher the lyrics, he could only hear the faint humming just as he used to hear before-  
  
Edaurd was not much older than Raivas, it was only by circumstance he was able to grow up and his body had grown.

There was still a child inside of him who refused to grow up.  
And that child was the one who dreamt of things that could never come true, impossible things.

Not Edaurd.  
Edaurd knew that it was foolish because Raivas didn't sing.  
Raivas was silent ever since-whatever it was...

And he didn't sing anymore.


	7. Life Is Like A River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one was made for the haiku thing on hwd a while back.  
> TW: its not stated he drowns, but you could take it that way? So be forewarned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few drabble, are all older drabbles I forgot to post. Some like this one were from the haiku thing (which I was really bad at but oh well)

Life is like a river.

Alfred reflected, as he walked to the mines one winter morning.

A river is cold, and wet, and if that didn't describe his life he didn't know what would.

He hummed, and stared into the waters as he wasn't in any hurry he walked closer.

As he grew closer to the water's edge, he shivered though he was lucky enough to have a coat it was far too small and riddled with holes.

The water was deep, and murky.

So deep, that you couldn't see the bottom it was large, and seemingly endless void of empty water.

In the spring, and summer sometimes Alfred went fishing, occasionally he would to catch something good for dinner.

Life really is like a river.  
Alfred thought, Arthur had warned him countless times, but Alfred did not heed those words today and stepped closer.

He was at the very edge, closer than he had been before.

Life is like a river.  
With one misstep he slipped, and fell in.


	8. Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also made for the haiku thing.  
> TW: Implied human trafficking, and mentions of poverty

Amelia's finger grazed over the plane ticket she held close to her fluttering heart.  
This was it, her way out, she could finally start a new life somewhere else far away from the cycle of violence, and poverty that plagued her tired, old, decrepit home.  
She was practically bursting with happiness.  
Her thoughts were filled with possibilities, all of the things she would do.

Amelia had been promised work as a waitress as soon as she arrived.  
It didn't seem real as though it was a dream and soon she would wake up and find it was just a dream.

Her mama told her it was too good to be true, but what did she know?

Her family warned her that it was too good to be true, but Amelia refused to believe them, she didn't want to believe them.  
There was a bounce in her step as she boarded the plane, and started her new life.

On landing, she realized the bitter truth.


	9. Will the circle, be unbroken?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: hunger strike.

_Will_ _the_ _circle_ _be_ _unbroken_?

  
It was only a whisper no more than a few words, but that's what started it all.

A few words whispered into someone's ear, is sometimes all it takes to trigger something much bigger for better or for worse.

 

Whispers are how rebellions often start.

  
_By, and by, by and by_

  
That small whisper then lead to a rumor, and that rumor lead to a hunger strike which had been ongoing ever since.

Lithuania stared at the high ceiling, the whole ordeal started many, many months ago.  
His mouth watered at the thought of food.

But he had to keep going.

  
_Is a better home awaiting?_

  
Silently he prayed it would all be over soon.

  
_in the sky, in the sky?_

  
Still Lithuania kept going, even if it was slowly eating him away.

It was an act of solidarity, all of them suffered.

If they stopped now they would be surrendering , and all of this would have been for nothing.

  
_Will the circle be unbroken?_

_by, and by, by and by_


	10. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: its not explicitly a coma, but it could come off as that so... TW: coma/implied coma

There were so many lights, so many bright lights that it was nearly blinding.

So many different colors: red, green, and blue, and yellow. Like Christmas lights.

The only thing Matthew could hear, was a dull ringing, like a distant bell.

It was almost as though he was transported back in time, like he was a child again.

' _Matthew_ '

Whispered the wind.

 _'Matthew'_  
He wanted to reply, but his jaw remained shut.  
All around him children were laughing, playing. They were familiar faces, that he hadn't seen in ages.

' _Matthew_ '  
All of the while the lights were becoming fainter, and fainter, and fainter he was slowly loosing the scattered pieces of his mind.

What was left, was nothing but ashes, he was shattering.

' _Matthew_... _Matthew_ '

The wind sobbed.

_'I'm sorry...'_


	11. Alone

Hidden away in a small, secluded space, there is a small music box slowly collecting dust in the dark.

Whenever Raivis is alone, he will bring it out of its hiding place and wind the rusted brass knob and listen to its song.  
He likes the music box, not only because he likes the music but also because its his little secret.

No one else knows of its existence, and he intends to keep it that way.

It is his own.

  
Today he does the same, after determining he is alone he brings it out and turns the winding key.  
The song is slow, soft, and sad.

Its old, practically ancient and the music box itself is nearly as old as the song.  
Raivis smiles to himself at the little tune, some times when he listens he can imagine he's somewhere else.

His mind drifts off, and he dreams of home.


	12. Conversations with crows, the 11th, how far can you carry this.

It was the 11th.

That was the last date she could remember.

That was the day Natasha ran away.

Who knows what day it is, who knows how much time has passed.

The scratchy caw of a crow echoed in the distance, somewhere out there.

The forest is silent, and dark: its morning. There's nothing to do, no place to go, nothing.

All there is to do, is walk, walk to who knows where.

Natasha feels dirty, soiled, rotten inside and she doesn't quite know why.

She still believes she didn't do anything wrong, that this was unfair, that she was wronged somehow but she still feels dirty.

"how far can you carry this?"

"how far can you go on like this?"

She doesn't know, she doesn't have a choice. She keeps going.


	13. "When will you learn?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When will you learn"

"When will you learn?"

Arthur muttered through gritted teeth "that you don't need all of this stuff?"

He stared at Alfred, but received no response.

"Alfred? Are you listening to me?"  
Alfred was staring blankly at him, he did not respond he was off in his own world.

"You don't need to do this... You don't need this stuff."

Alfred's lips turned into a scowl. "Of course I do."  
They stood, apart and distant from one another in the enormous office.

A large painting of Alfred hung on the wall looming over them.  
Alfred was not the boy he used to be.

Alfred was a man now. 


	14. Bloom

It was springtime and the flowers weren't the only thing blooming.

Today there was not a cloud in the sky and the birds were singing, and flowers on display all over the city.

Raivas watched Erika go by from his hiding place secretly hoping to be noticed. 

He'd been waiting for oh so long, admiring her from afar. Some times they would exchange glances and Erika would smile.

He loved it when she smiled.

Sometimes they would engage in a small chat, that's how he learned her name.  
But sometimes she would not notice him at all, and she would simply walk by.

He signed, as the distance between them grew.

He only wished he could reach out to her, learn more about her.

She was like a flower... Raivas noted to write that line down. 

She was like a beautiful flower.


	15. Persuasion.

" _No_ "

Ivan looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean _no_?"

"I mean _no_ " Tolys repeated his voice stern " _no_ means _no_ ".

This puzzled Ivan more, he thought he would succeed, he thought he would say yes. He wasn't counting on Tolys saying _no_.

"Maybe you could reconsider?"

" _No_ "

Ivan decided to switch to a different tactic, he would need a bit more persuading so it seemed.

"Are you sure?"

There was an edge to his voice, the tone was chilly and indignant he wasn't about to be pushed around he kept his fist to his sides trying to keep himself calm.

Tolys didn't flinch. "The answer is still _no_ "


	16. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the recent drabble game!  
> TW: implied character death

**1987** : 

Alin's earliest memories are fuzzy at best and blurry at worst.

He doesn't remember much about his early days, just colors, emotions, and images all jumbled together.

 Bits and pieces here and there, pieces that he has to stitch together.

Wading into his memories is like stepping on shards of broken glass. If he wasn't careful, he could get cut.

His oldest memory consists of their mother, when she was younger and happy. Her smile, so light how graceful and kind she was.

 What she was like before he came around and ruined everything. 

 

His second oldest memory, consisted of Vlad.

 Alin was no more than 3 years old at the time, and Vlad could not have been older than ten.

He remembers it was cold that morning, snowing heavily. Vlad snuck him outside, to play in the snow. It was nice, real nice. 

Alin doesn't remember what they did outside, but he remembers the feeling of doing something fun and forbidden. 

He also remembers the door opening, and the feeling of dread as he was met with the unamused stare of their mother.

 

Alin's third oldest memory, is also of Vlad.

He was around five years old, and Vlad around 15. 

He remembers more about this one. 

Alin had gotten into a fight in school one of the older boys was picking on him, he came home in tears. 

Their mother told him to suck it up, and be a man.

 But Vlad comforted him, he actually listened.

He made Alin feel happy and safe, he told him what to do. 

Alin doesn't remember what happened afterward, he just remembers feeling safe.

He remembers the feeling of comfort that at least someone was really there for him in the world even if their mother wasn't.

 

Alin's fourth memory, is a bit happier and much shorter.

In their childhoods, happiness was few and far between and they took what little happiness they could get. 

Alin was 6, and Vlad was just turning 16. So Alin drew him a picture, and instead of crumpling it up and throwing it away like their mother did.

Instead Vlad smiled and hung it up.

 Vlad told him how proud he was of him, that it looked good.

 Alin remembers feeling good, confident, like he was wanted. 

Vlad said he could be an artist one day if he kept this up. This made Alin's heart soar, at the prospect he could do something.

 Their mother always told him that he would never amount to anything, Vlad told him otherwise. 

 

These memories, echo in his mind, all of Alin's happiest and saddest memories.

All consist of Vlad, Vlad was his rock.

The one person he could depend upon, the one person who believed in him. 

 

The fifth memory is not so happy, in the fifth memory.

They found Vlad dead.

 Alin doesn't like to think about that one.

 


	17. I dunno what prompt this was mean't to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count was 144

"Daddy"

Alfred said, standing in the door way.

His stuffed animal in hand, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

He was tired, and confused.

He had woken up to an empty house, no Matthew, no papa. No one.

He was scared, he was hungry, he had wondered around for oh so long dazed and confused.

"daddy?"

There was no answer, he could hardly tell if the man slumped over in the chair even was his daddy.

They did not look like daddy at all, they were much paler, they looked sick.

There were dark bags under his eyes. And he wasn't smiling, he wasn't even scowling, he just sat there.

Eyes empty, his mouth curled into a smile.

"Where's Matthew?" Alfred insisted, he wanted answers.

"And where's papa?"

His daddy looked up at him with a grin, raised the half empty bottle in his hands and murmured words that Alfred would never forget.

"They abandoned us Alfred"


	18. Bite The Bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: war, and implied death

Timo's job, it was not an easy one for sure.

It took a toll on him, he did not like to admit it. But it took its toll on him, in more ways than one.

Each and every time, every assignment, every family, every crying wife, child, every confused parent, they never left him.

Their shocked faces, their sobs, their million questions.

Every family it was the same story, with the exact same answer.

They invaded his senses, his every waking moment, even his dreams. Were consumed by this burden.

Yet if he didn't do it who would?

There was no one else, someone had to tell these families, these wives, these mothers, these fathers of their sons fates.

Someone had to break the news to them, that was Timo's job.

Often he would wake up at night, his heart heavy and his mind consumed with these visions.

These millions, and millions of faces. And sobs, and names. He was able to turn it off when he was at work.

But at home, it became too much.

Today he reminded himself to stay calm, drew in a deep breath taking a glance at the paper in his hands one last time.

At a name.

"Matthew, missing".

Timo cringed, this would be a hard one. Only nineteen too, just barely older than Emil.

Timo drew in a deep sigh his every breath was labored.

He did not cry, he did not react, he simply bit the bullet, and knocked on the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he's a casualty notification officer (look it up its cool) in this btw


End file.
